


Dragonsmate

by purplegertie



Series: Dragons Love Treasure [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Belly Kink, Dragons, Dubious Consent, Inflation, M/M, Stuffing, Transformation, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplegertie/pseuds/purplegertie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen still isn't sure what a dragonsmate is or why Jared wants Jensen to be his, but it means Jared's given Jensen an entire treasure chamber to eat, so Jensen isn't complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragonsmate

**Author's Note:**

> This is still mostly my excuse for ALL THE INFLATION and ALL THE BELLY KINK, but it also features dubcon body transformation and a brief man-sucks-dragon blowjob, so reader beware if those are not your thing.

Jensen dozes for what feels like weeks. _Is_ weeks, he discovers, when he finally drags his gold-glutted belly up onto his feet and waddles out to the opening of Jared’s cave. The weeds just outside that get torn up each time Jared comes in for a landing are grown knee-high, and in the distance, the leaves have turned.

Jensen rubs his still-swollen belly absently and wanders back inside. He sits heavily at Jared’s side and leans into the crook of his elbow, and Jared snuffles awake. 

“It’s autumn,” Jensen says, still feeling a little bewildered.

“Mm,” Jared rumbles. Somehow the rumble sounds extremely smug. He uncurls his tail and stretches out lengthwise. Jensen twists around to look, and he can’t help but chuckle. Jared’s massive stomach, still overstuffed with treasure, is even more obvious when compared to the slim length he has everywhere else.

Jensen prods his own stomach. It’s a _little_ smaller than it was, maybe. It must be, because before he couldn’t even walk. “So does this ever digest? Or am I going to be this way forever?”

“Which would you rather have?” Jared asks.

The answer comes immediate and unbidden: _More_. Jensen wants more. But that’s greedy, and impossible, and it doesn’t even properly answer the question. Jensen hedges, “I’m not going to be much good to you if I’m always like this.”

“It’s not about how much _good_ you are to me,” Jared says, somehow managing to sound offended and fond at the same time. “But fine, you won’t stay like that forever.”

“Well. Good.” Jensen fights off a sneaking sense of disappointment, which is ridiculous. He looks _pregnant_ because his stomach is full of _rocks and metal_. There is nothing appealing about this, he tells himself sternly.

But it’s treasure, another part of him says. Think about the delicious gold and gemstones you ate, the pretty filagree and the diamond settings that are sitting in your belly, weighing you down. Remember how they felt as you swallowed them? Remember how pretty they were? Feel how heavy they are in your gut?

Jensen doesn’t know how much later it is when he realizes he’s been massaging his belly and _groaning_ , just as loud and uncontrolled as if a maid was sucking his cock. Except there’s no maid, only his hugely distended stomach. “Uh.”

Jared chuckles, which is a terrifying sound in a dragon. “Do you want more?”

“There isn’t any left,” Jensen says. He knows there isn’t. He was there, weeks ago; he knows that every last piece of treasure went down either his throat or Jared’s. 

“You know the stone door behind the pool?” Jared asks.

“Yeah...”

“Bring back what’s behind it.”

Jensen blinks. “I won’t be able to move it.”

“It’s not as heavy as it looks,” Jared assures him. 

“Okaaay...” Jensen really doubts this is true; he tried pulling on it one time, on the pretense of wanting to clean but actually because he was curious, and it didn’t budge. 

“Just try it,” Jared coaxes. “But you have to bring the stuff back, okay? Don’t just sit there with it.”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “I promise.” Not that there’s much point in promising. That door isn’t going to open.

Jensen gets back up on his feet, gives his awkward belly a little pat just because he feels like it, and wobbles down the passageway, past caverns still lit with everlight flame and one cavern where the flame has gone out. Jensen wonders with a jolt if he’d been out for a _year_ and a few weeks, but he shakes his head and kept going.

He walks into the cavern with the pool – steamy and smelling of metals, because the pool is supplied by a hot spring – and around to the back, where the stone door sits. There’s a massive hinge on one side. It has to have been dwarves that made it, and that means it’s very old indeed, because it’s been centuries since dwarves were willing to do work for dragons. 

The handle is iron, built for a hand far bigger then Jensen’s and worked all over with intricate patterns. Jensen fits both hands around it and tugs. To Jensen’s utter shock, the door opens a half inch with a thunderous scrape of stone on stone. Jensen’s so surprised he falls backwards. From the stone floor he stares up at the door. It looks the same as always except for being a little bit open. There’s even a draft. Unthinking, he takes a whiff of the air winding from it, and he might’ve fallen over again if he weren’t already sitting down. It smells so _good_. His mouth waters. Visions of precious gems dance before his eyes.

He doesn’t really think about his next move. He just gets up on his feet, firmly takes the handle again, and drags the door open one straining step at a time. t’s dark inside. Jensen can just barely make out the glint of gold, but nothing more. Reluctantly he pulls himself away from the glint and the smell, and he walks across the cavern to pull an everlight torch from its stand. Excitement knots in his belly as he slips behind the door. 

He gapes.

If he and Jared ate a hill of treasure before, then these are mountains. Stacks of coins rise and fall in gentle frozen waves. Gemstones glint like stars from peaks of treasure taller than his head; they lie scattered at his feet like spring flowers. To his back is the door; in every other direction likes fortunes past imagining. But he doesn’t have to imagine them. He can _see_ them. He can taste them. He hasn’t touched a single piece and already he can feel the weight on his tongue, the uncanny flavor.

“Jensen!” Jared’s bellow echoed in the long empty hallways. “Did you find it?”

Jensen peers around, opens his mouth, then realizes that Jared can’t possibly hear him. He stands undecided, and then he reaches down and grabs a single handful of baubles – and pearls, he thought; he can’t remember ever tasting pearls – and heads back to Jared.

He finds the dragon just inside the great hall. “I didn’t think you could move,” Jensen said. Of course, that had been weeks again.

Jared shrugs scaly, oversized shoulders. “Wasn’t sure you’d make it back. Ooh, you brought a snack.” His mouth yawns open expectantly, and after a pause, Jensen tosses in the whole handful of treasure. Jared swallows it in a single gulp, and then he heaves a contented sigh. “Mm.”

Jensen holds his tongue. It isn’t his treasure, after all. He has no right to it. 

But. _Pearls_.

Jared turns an eyeball toward him. He peers too close for Jensen’s comfort, and he laughs, deep and rumbling. “Come on,” he says.

Jensen waits, and when nothing happens, he says, “Come on where?”

“Smart ass,” Jared says. Then he digs his claws into the stone and scrapes his vast, treasure-bloated belly forward a full three feet. “Just give me a minute.”

In fact, it takes more like twenty for Jared to drag himself to the mouth of the treasure chamber. He reaches out with one clawed paw and swings the door fully open, as smoothly as if it had been oiled yesterday. “Mm,” he said again, sniffing the air. He crawls forward a few more feet until the barrel of his chest fills the doorway.

“There’s no way you’ll fit,” Jensen says, with an obscure sense of triumph – even though, with Jared positioned the way he is, there’s no way for Jensen to fit, either.

Maybe that occurs to Jared. He shrugs back a few feet. “Come on in,” he rumbles. 

Jensen hurries forward and squeezes past Jared, everlight torch still in hand. Now he sets out to do what he was too treasure-dazed to do before: he went around the entire chamber, relighting every sconce. Except by the second one he’s reached a dilemma, which is that he’s run out of floor.

“Just crawl on top,” Jared says, watching his progress.

Just get up on your hands knees, Jensen, and crawl across gold. 

But that’s what Jensen does. Torch high in one hand, he clambed up onto the nearest hillock. The gold coins clink under his shoes, but they’re cold and heavy like stones, and they don’t slip. Eventually he gets himself upright, one hand to the wall. It’s easier lighting sconces this way, with a foot or two of treasure to save him from having to stand on his toes. And with every step that heavy _chink_ of precious metal rings out.

When he comes to the sconce farthest from the door, he spots more pearls, lying at his feet: an entire necklace of them, each larger than the last. Some are round and white, others an oily, iridescent gray. He shoots a furtive glance towards Jared, and then quickly he loops the necklace over his head.

Finally he arrives back at the door and Jared. He skids a little coming down off the golden hill. “Now what?” he says. He knows what he wants the answer to be. Oh, he wants it very badly. His stomach aches with the wanting of it, even as glutted as he still is. His throat is parched for lack of jewels; his nose is so full with the promise of them that he feels a little dizzy.

“Now,” Jared says, “we feast.”

They do.

It must be Jensen’s imagination, but everything tastes better than he remembers. The jewels look like the sweetest candy, the crispest apple, the ripest pear, and they taste even better than that. He remembers what it was like before, gulping hard-edged coins and feeling them settle in his belly like stones; now they go down smooth as ale and settle like coals, warming him from his throat to his cock.

Every gold coin tastes better than the one before; in each one he finds new flavors, new complexities of meaning on his tongue. And even if they tasted of nothing at all, he’d keep on eating, just to feel them in his stomach. Sometimes he thinks he can hear the new ones clink against the old.

Then he remembers the pearls around his neck. The settings are flimsy; he pulls them apart almost without trying, and pearls drip one by one into his lap. He puts one of the biggest white ones in his mouth and grunts in surprise.

“All right?” Jared asks.

“It’s salt,” Jensen says around the pearl. Only not just salt. Sweet, too. As he rolls it on his tongue, the savory recedes and the sweet becomes stronger, and then it’s salt again. Then sweet.

“It’s the sea. It’s where pearls come from.”

The flavor is nice, Jensen decides. Delicate. Manners occur to him, and he says, “Do you want one?” He holds out a pearl – not, to be scrupulously honest, one of the larger ones.

“You eat them,” Jared says.

Jensen isn’t going to argue with that. He swallows them down one after the other, as slippery as minnows. He imagines them swimming in his belly, imagines the tickle of their tails, and he laughs.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Jensen pauses, a pearl halfway to his mouth. “It’s great,” he says honestly. He thinks there are better words to say - to thank a person, much less a dragon, for their hospitality. He can’t remember what they are, though. Contentedness washes over him like a warm breeze, blowing all deeper thoughts out of his mind. “It’s great,” he repeats. He pats his belly, and for the first time, distracted from eating, he realizes just what’s become of it.

He thought his belly was large the last time, massive with gold, but now it rolls out in front of him like one of the celestial spheres. He stretches his arm and realizes he can’t reach his bellybutton - it’s pressed too far out in front of him. His tunic has long since torn, and he didn’t even notice. The rags of it drape across his belly, barely reaching the top.

His stomach doesn’t hurt. It should, but it doesn’t. He presses a finger against his skin to see. Then he presses his whole palm to his belly and groans with the hot wave of want that rolls through him. Or not want. He wants nothing. He _has_. He runs his hands over his belly, and that feels even better. He grips the obscene, wonderful bloat and presses with both palms, and he groans again, louder, and again, and the entire world has collapsed to his own massiveness, to the vast weight of his belly pressing on his thighs and sinking beneath them.

He is enormous.

He comes with a shudder, and then another, a thunder in his blood that rolls on and on until finally he sags against the pile of coins to his back. He has never felt so good in his life. So well fed, and so huge, and so comfortable. He is very, very comfortable.

Sometime later, he blinks. He groans at the crick in his neck, and then he stifles himself, because Jared’s head is lying just a few feet away, and his eyes are closed. 

Jensen eyes his stomach. It’s just as huge as he remembers. Just as round and impossible – no man could put all Jensen has into his belly, much less _what_ Jensen has put. It could be bigger, though. Whole hills of treasure remain, and Jensen’s mouth waters.

By the time Jared wakes, Jensen is bigger again. He’s stopped wondering about it. Everything within reach, he’s swallowed. For a while he could scoot on his ass, as ungainly as Jared dragging his gut across the floor, but that time is past now, too. 

“Good?” Jared asks. He winds his head closer to Jensen, and Jensen reaches up and scritches behind Jared’s eye.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Jensen says drowsily. He really is enormous. Maybe it’s time to sleep again.

“But you like it.”

“I never liked anything this much.” Jensen strokes his belly, but he’s too far gone for even that hot pleasure from before. Probably it’s because he’s brought himself to completion a half a dozen times while Jared’s been asleep.

“There’s a lot of treasure to go.”

“Yeah.” Jensen looks around, tries to take it all in. He wanted to be bigger. He’ll never get a better chance. Just looking at the hills of gold and jewels, he thinks he can feel his belly swell. “Hey, what about you? Aren’t you going to eat more?” He can’t believe he didn’t notice before. Did Jared eat anything besides that first handful Jensen tossed in his mouth?

Although, it isn’t as though Jensen’s been in a position to notice. 

“I’m fine.” Jared gives him a toothy grin.

Jensen has a horrible thought. “Are you going to eat me? After I finish?”

“That would be stupid,” Jared says. “And really inefficient. It’d be faster to eat you now.”

“That’s true,” Jensen says, comforted. “Am _I_ going to eat all of this, then?” He waves a hand at the vast wealth remaining.

“Yes,” Jared says, hissing the word. It reminds Jensen, briefly, that Jared is after all a kind of serpent. 

It sounds pretty good to Jensen. He goes to sleep, and he dreams of it.

Time passes. Jensen doesn’t know how much. He’d need to go to the mouth of Jared’s cave to tell, but it’s far away and surely cold. Anyway, Jensen is rarely able to walk. Every so often he manages to push to his feet, despite his belly, but he has trouble with balance, and soon enough he’s too big to move again anyway. Sometimes he sleeps so long that he’s gotten visibly smaller by the time he wakes, but that’s soon fixed. 

Sometimes he wants nothing in the world but to swallow treasure until he is mountainous himself, a spherical hill of a man. His belly never seems to stop making room for as much as he cares to put in it. Distantly he remembers a feeling of _enough_ , but satiety is a mystery to him now, barely a memory, not remotely desirable. Eating is better than fullness. 

One day – or evening, or midnight, who can tell? – he climbs atop a pile and eats it to the ground, until his belly will not allow even for sitting upright. He reclines with his head on Jared’s paw, and Jared shoves treasure within Jensen’s reach, and he keeps on eating until his neck is tired from leaning forward to put things in his mouth, and finally he just gives up. 

Sleep will come again, soon enough. Eat and sleep; there are no other activities worthy of Jensen’s attention. But as he’s drifting off, Jared begins to speak, as he sometimes has before. He’s telling of old times, of dragons, of peaces made and broken with dwarves. The dragons he describes are fearsome. They terrorize cattle and townspeople and kings. Jensen is sleepily glad that Jared isn’t like that.

“I don’t understand,” Jensen says another time. He’s lying on his back, because he doesn’t bother getting up anymore; when he wants something farther than his hand can reach, he shoves with his feet and flails with his arms until he gets there. Absently he strokes his belly – he can’t begin to see over it anymore – and says, “What about you?”

“What about me?” Jared says. He licks Jensen’s head. He comes away with a tongue full of hair, and he spits it out, along with little flares of flame. 

The flames don’t bother Jensen these days. “You have all this treasure, and I know you like eating it, too. Why don’t you want some?”

Jared curls his tongue around Jensen’s neck. Once upon a time Jared’s tongue scalded; it doesn’t bother Jensen anymore, either. Then Jared says, “It’s for my dragonsmate. I saved it for you.”

“I don’t understand what a dragonsmate is,” Jensen says grouchily. “I’ve tended you two years, Jared—”

“Three,” Jared corrects. “Three and a half, probably.”

Jensen tries to figure out how it could possibly be three and a half. He gives up. “Three and a half years, and I still don’t know what you wanted me for.”

“This.” Jared nudges along Jensen’s side with his nose. 

“You don’t make any sense,” Jensen complains. 

“Most humans just want to look at treasure, you know. Hold it in their hand. Display it and tell people who made it and where it’s from.”

There’s humor in Jared’s voice that takes Jensen a little bit to figure out. Oh, right. Jensen did that one time, before he knew how good it was to eat. Jensen once looked at treasure without wanting to immediately stuff it down his throat. It’s hard to fathom. “Everyone wants to eat it,” he tells Jared finally. That hunger for shiny things – he felt that from the first time he saw a diamond ring. He’s pretty sure. “That’s why they want it so much. They just don’t know they can.”

“Mmm,” Jared rumbles. It might be disagreement.

Jensen reaches for a necklace, just barely within reach. It’s rubies this time, juicy and sharp with flavor. He lifts the entire necklace up and swallows the whole thing down in a series of gulps, tasting each ruby as it passes over his tongue. 

He keeps his other hand over his belly, just where it begins to swell. It’s far too massive to _show_ the addition of a single necklace, but he thinks he can feel the knobby edges of it settle under his hand. When he’s swallowed the last ruby, he massages the spot. It shifts under his fingers, and he is heated all through with _having_. All this belongs to him now. “It’s mine,” he tells Jared. He sweeps his hands over the parts of his belly he can reach. He wants Jared to see how huge with treasure he is, how rich he is. “Everything in here, it’s mine.” No one can take it. No wealth is so secure, he feels certain, as the wealth of a gut enormous with gold.

“Yes.” Jared begins to curl around Jensen. He can, now; distended though his belly still is, it's grown small enough that he can get through the door, and Jensen has eaten enough of the treasure chamber that there’s room for Jared. He stretches are Jensen and lays his head atop Jensen’s belly. The added weight makes Jensen’s stomach feel all the heavier, and Jensen’s fingers curl with the pleasure of it. As Jensen is dropping off, Jared’s voice rumbles through Jensen’s belly. “And you are mine,” Jared says.

It’s a long time before Jensen wakes up again. He’s not sure how he knows. Jared’s still curled partly around him, but Jensen manages to shove at him enough to get some leverage, and by craning his neck, he can see a corner of the treasure chamber. It’s emptier than he remembers. The mountains of treasure are gone; in his line of sight, only a lonely foothill remains.

He, on the other hand, is almost as when he fell asleep. He runs his hands over his belly and hums. When he pushes, his belly gives a little – fluidly, as if he were full of oatmeal instead of metal and stone. Very lumpy oatmeal, that is; coins and jewels are still knobby under his fingers. Only, when he pushes, the knobby bits sink in. When he pushes harder, the whole shape of his distended stomach deforms just a little. He squeezes with both hands, and he can feel his belly jut farther outward. The whole contents of his stomach shift ponderously under the pressure.

He does it again. He can’t help but laugh at how it must surely look. He imagines emeralds and diamonds bobbing in a sea of half-molten gold inside him, and the imagined heat of it washes over him. He presses his hands into his belly and giggle at how good at feels until the shift and sway within makes him shout and shudder and lie back, grinning at the cavern’s stone ceiling.

When he’s recovered somewhat, it occurs to him that if his stomach has so much give, that means he needs to put more in it. He squirms on his back until he’s reached the foothill of gold and gemstones. He swallows the first emerald, and he marvels at how easily it settles into his stomach. He really is like a pot of gold soup, flavored with jewels.

He keeps on putting one thing about another down his throat until his belly is stretched taut again. He pats it proudly, and then he keeps on eating, just to know he can, until the entire hill is gone.

The next time he wakes to Jared eyeing him. “You know,” Jared says, “you couldn’t get out the door now if you tried.”

Jensen blinks at him. Jared obligingly crawls out of the way so that Jensen can see. The door is far smaller than he remembers. And he... he is far bigger than he realized. “My belly is as big as yours was,” he says wonderingly. “When we got here.”

“Maybe not _that_ big.”

“It feels so good,” Jensen confesses. “I want to be like this forever.”

“Nothing is forever,” Jared says—fondly, Jensen thinks.

“It feels really good,” Jensen repeats. He presses on his belly. That give is there again. He pushes harder, all it once, and the entire molten mass inside him quakes a little. He lies back and groans so loud it’s almost a shout. He presses again, and his belly rolls heavily under his hand – forward and then back again. He groans.

“You need more,” Jared says. Jensen isn’t going to argue. He’s surprised when Jared props him up against the wall – it’s been an eon since Jensen could sit up, but now his belly squeezes a little narrower where it doesn’t quite fit, sitting on his thighs and bulging out to the sides like a globe. Jensen wonders how many feet across it is. 

He peers around the chamber with interest. It’s looking pretty sparse, although somehow, even with less treasure to crowd things, the ceiling still seems closer to Jensen’s head.

Jared is busily sweeping together a pile of treasure with his paws and his tail, just in Jensen’s reach. 

“Is that the last of it?” Jensen asks, horror-struck.

“Greedy,” Jared says. “You’re eating my entire hoard!”

Jensen thinks he ought to apologize, but he isn’t the least bit sorry. “This is what you wanted, right?” He slaps his belly and then groans again.

“It’s exactly what I wanted,” Jared agrees. “Here. Eat.”

Jensen eats. He tries to pace himself, to remember that this is the last. This is the biggest he will ever be. Each time he remembers, he feels a pang, but it’s a distant pang, drowned out by the craving for _more_. Soon he’s gulping told gold as fast he can get it to his mouth.

There’s more left that Jensen originally thought. By the time he’s down to the last few pieces, he’s breathing hard with the exertion. The molten treasure in his belly heaves with every breath. He swallows the very last coin he can see, and he peers into the dark corners, but he doesn’t see a single thing more. “That’s it?” he says piteously.

“You are so fat, Jensen,” Jared says. “Look at you.” He noses into Jensen’s belly. 

“But it’s gone.”

“Sleep, Jensen,” Jared says. He curls up at Jensen’s side and puts his head on Jensen’s belly again, and Jensen falls asleep to the wonder of how good it feels.

When he wakes again, the chamber is still empty of treasure. His engorged belly still swells out from him like a creature all its own. He wonders if it’s begun to get smaller yet. He’s seized with panic. If it hasn’t, it’s bound to soon enough; Jared _said_ he wouldn’t stay like this. Nothing lasts forever, Jared said.

“Jared,” he says. “Jared!” He prods at Jared’s head with his foot. 

Jared rumbles out a growl that could mean _Go away, I’m sleeping_ or could mean _As soon as I open my eyes, I’m going to eat you._ Jensen prods him again.

Finally Jared blinks his eyes open and lifts his head to look at Jensen. “What?”

“There’s nothing left,” Jensen says. “And I’m—” He paused. He wasn’t hungry, exactly, but he _wanted_.

“There’s one thing left,” Jared says. “Lie down.”

Jensen doesn’t question it. He’s too busy imagining what one thing there could be while also trying to maneuver himself out of the position he’s in. His legs and arms are so feeble against the immensity inside him, holding him still. Jared eventually helps, shoving Jensen along with his nose until Jensen is lying on his back again, as he was for so long before.

“Now what?” Jensen asks. 

Jared doesn’t answer. Instead he lifts his front paw, lifts it over Jensen's face, and plants on the other side. Then he does the same with the other paw, and now he is _on top of Jensen's face_.

“Hey,” Jensen cries, and then Jared plants a rear paw on Jensen’s belly, and Jensen shouts with the ecstatic pain of it.

Jared’s still moving, though. Finally his scaly stomach, still a little swollen with the treasure Jensen only dimly remembers him eating, is scraping along over Jensen’s face, which ought to hurt and is in fact only annoying. Then up against Jensen’s face bumps something else, something round and hot - hotter even than Jared’s constant dragon heat – and wet.

“It’s my cock,” Jared says. Jensen feels the words through Jared’s belly as much as he hears them. “Suck it.”

“Why?” Jensen says, although the word is muffled against the dragon sitting on his face.

Jared hears anyway, or maybe he guesses. “Because I let you eat my entire treasure chamber, and now I want you to suck my cock.” There’s a pause, and then in a rumble that’s somehow softer and more gentle, Jared adds, “Please, Jensen.”

The _please_ makes Jensen remember that Jared is his friend. Jared took Jensen in when Jensen was just a runaway bondservant. He let him share a cave and his company and finally his treasure, and even one of those would be more than anyone else ever thought to give Jensen. Jensen turns, and with a strained effort he fits his mouth around the girth of Jared’s massive cock.

Jensen’s sucked cock before, though not by choice. Not when he cared for anything more than keeping the lash off his back, certainly not when he sought the pleasure of the person to whom that cock belonged. He tries to remember how it felt to have maids to suck his, the time or two one was willing. He works his lips and tongue and tries to stay wide enough to keep his teeth out of it. He thinks he must be doing okay, because Jared is groaning above him.

Then Jared shudders, and that’s all the warning Jensen gets before his mouth is filled—with gold. He’s swallowed plenty enough of it now to know that metallic tang on his tongue, even though it's always been solid gold before. Now great molten spurts of gold fill his mouth and pour down his throat. He doesn’t even need to swallow, he thinks dazedly. The gold finds its way into him anyway. It keeps coming and coming as Jared shudders above him. Jensen can feel himself engorging, ballooning. Like a mosquito swelling fat with blood, Jensen swells with gold, fuller than full, and still it goes on. 

_Enough_ , Jensen thinks. For the first time since Jensen can remember, he has enough. He is satisfied. He wants no more; his tender belly aches for relief, and still gold floods his throat. He’s swallowing an ocean, and he can’t even turn his head away.

He’s barely conscious of the flow finally stopping, of Jared crawling off of him. Jared noses against him. “Shhh,” Jared says, an utterly ridiculous sound to come from a dragon.

Jensen manages that one thought, and then he’s swallowed again by the exquisite agony of his belly, swollen beyond imagining, bloated beyond conception.

“Shh,” Jared says again.

“Hurts,” Jensen moans.

“I know.”

 _I thought you were my friend_ , Jensen thinks, but his jaw is clenched so tight in pain that he can’t get out the words.

It goes on hurting for a very long time. It might be weeks before the piercing ache recedes far enough to let Jensen fall into anguished, tortured sleep.

Jensen wakes to a bellyache – the pleasant-painful soreness of a belly that’s been filled overfull and not quite recovered yet. He rolls over. It feels strange. When was the last time he could roll over? He gets up, and then realizing he’s standing on his hands.

On his paws. They have claws like scimitars and are covered in crimson scales, tinged with gold. “Jared?” he says. The word rumbles from his throat.

“Jensen,” Jared says warmly from behind. “ _Jensen_. Look at you.”

Jensen’s trying. “What happened? What happened to me?” Jensen wriggles his toes. The claws clack against the stone floor. 

“What do you think?”

Jensen turns to look Jared in the eye. Jared is staring at him, eyes full of wonder. Jensen didn’t know Jared could make that expression. Jensen isn’t sure how he knows that Jared is making that expression now.

Jensen comes to the obvious conclusion. “I’m a dragon.”

“Look at you,” Jared repeats. He begins to prowl around Jensen. Jensen is big now, taller and far longer than he ever was before, but Jared’s bigger still. “Nice color you’ve got, too.”

Jensen tries to catch his breath. He has to draw it deeper and longer to fill his lungs than he ever did before. “Why am I a dragon?”

“Don’t you want to be?” Jared asks. His mouth gapes open in a dragonish approximation of a grin, and all his teeth hang out. “You were so greedy for treasure, you might as well have been one already.” 

The logic seems inarguable. “But what do I _do_ as a dragon? What do dragons do?”

Jared sidles up next to Jensen. His green-gold scales scrape against Jensen’s red-gold ones. Jared winds his neck over Jensen’s, and he says in Jensen’s ear, “What do you want to do?”

Jensen takes a moment, trying to imagine. “Take a hot bath?” How hot does a bath need to be before it feels hot to a dragon?

“Mm,” Jared hums approvingly. 

“Eat something? Meat.” Bloody, Jensen thinks.

“Mm-hm.”

“And then...” The need surges up from deep in his gut – a whole different need than his shiny new interest in raw cow. “Then I want to find treasure.”

Jared laughs, long and loud like his throat is full of thunder. He licks over Jensen’s eye with his long, long tongue, and he says, “I think you’ll do fine.”

THE END


End file.
